The Price of Freedom
by flowerpower71
Summary: His smile quickly fell as the weight of reality hit him once more. Britain was dead. His big brother figure was gone. Dead. Buried six feet under. And it was all his fault. AU Britain and America brotherly fluff


**Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya**

**I own nothing**

The sun was just about to set, ending another day. The sky was painted brilliant hues of orange, purple, pinks and a little bit of red. But the beautiful sunset went barely noticed by the lone figure who was busy climbing up the hill.

Alfred took his gloved hand out of his pocket and pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. The hill was a lot steeper than he remembered. Then again it had been awhile since he'd been there.

When he finally reached the top, he slowed down, coming to a halt completely. He looked straight ahead at the silohette in the distance. He swallowed down the lump already beginning to form in his throat and walked forward.

He reached a gravestone sitting underneath the shade of the tree. America dropped down to his knees and stared at the smooth stone. He reached up and traced the words with his fingers.

_Here lies Arthur Kirkland  
A Mighty Nation,  
Tea Lover  
Beloved brother_

Brother...

_How can I repay you brother of mine?_

_How can I expect you to forgive?_

_Clinging to the past I shed our blood  
And ruined your chance to live_

Tears appeared in the Nation's eyes as he thought back to the day that Britain had taken him in. The British man vowed to always take care of and protect the young child whom he held in his arms.

And he kept that promise.

As much as he had gotten onto America's nerves, America could not deny the fact that Britain had been a great caretaker of him. Heck, he still even had the toy soldiers that Britain had given him when he was a child. A small smile pulled at his lips as he thought about how every one was different.

_Though I knew the laws  
I paid no heed  
How can I return your wasted breath?  
What I did not know_

_Has cost you dear_

_For there is no cure for death_

His smile quickly fell as the weight of reality hit him once more. Britain was dead. His big brother figure was gone. Dead. Buried six feet under.

And it was all his fault.

_Beautiful mother soft and sweet  
Once you were gone  
We were not complete_

_Back through the years  
We reached for you  
Alas twas not meant to be_

Well not HIS fault exactly. He wasn't the one who pulled the trigger. Still, Alfred was the one who began the whole thing. The American Revolution to be prescise.

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_Flashback_

The rain came down, pounding on America's back, making his shaggy blonde hair stick to his forehead. He and his army all stood, their muskets pointing at the man in the red coat. Despite being outnumbered, Britain stood his ground. His own musket pointing at the American. Dark bags underneath his eyes indicated the lack of sleep he had experienced.

"Hey Britain!" Alfred barked. "I just want my freedom!"

_And how can I make amends_

_For all that I took from you?_

_I lead you with dreams hopeless  
My brother I was a fool_

That really was all he wanted. Freedom. He just wanted to take care of himself and not be coddled and babied anymore. Britain kept trying to make him be someone he wasn't. Tried to make him wear those 'monkey suits' and always scolding him for slouching. It just all finally became to much and Alfred finally just...snapped.

"I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother. From now on consider me, INDEPENDANT!"

America noted the flash of pain in Arthur's green eyes but he knew that it wasn't caused by the independent part, it was caused by the fact that he said that he was no longer his brother. Good. He wanted the British man to hurt.

The two just stood there, the rain continuing to fall. America still pointing his rifle at Britain. The latter of whom just stood there. His eyes wide and his mouth gaping in an 'o' shape. His expression said it all. Betrayal.

Suddenly, without any warning, Arthur began to charge forward!

_Don't cry for the past now brother of mine  
Neither you nor I are free from blame_

_Nothing can erase the things we did  
For the path we took was the same_

America staggered back a little being caught of guard. He raised his rifle and by using it like a shield, blocked Britain's blow. Britain's rifle now caught in America's. Britain swung his rifle and managed to send America's flying. Now the blue coat was defenseless.

Arthur huffed, pointing his rifle at what used to be his younger brother. What had happened to them? They used to be so close. Now they had come to this.

"I won't allow it!" Britain said at last, still pointing his weapon. "You idiot! Why can't you follow anything through till the end?!"

Alfred said nothing but instead just continued to stand there, glaring defiantly.

"Ready, aim!" one of America's soldiers ordered. The other blue coats readied and pointed their own rifles at the Englishman, ready to fire, to fight to protect their country.

The face off continued. America stared at the end of the rifle. So this is how it would end huh? Murdered by the hands of his own brother. Well one way or the other at least he'd get his freedom.

Just as these thoughts entered his mind, the rifle was lowered. He looked up, blue eyes meeting green.

"There's no way I could shoot you...I can't."

The rifle fell to the ground and Britain dropped to his knees. His body began shaking and he covered his face with his hand.

"Why? Dammit why?! It's not fair." He sobbed.

_Beautiful mother soft and sweet  
Once you were gone  
We were not complete_

_Back through the years we reached for you  
Alas twas not meant to be_

"You know why." America said quietly. Here he was, the mighty British Empire, on his knees, sobbing like a young child. "What happened? I remember when you were great."

_BAM!_

America jumped. Everyone jumped at the unexpected gunshot. Britain's sobs stopped. He put a hand to his chest. When he pulled it away it was covered in crimson blood.

_My dreams made me blind and mute  
I long to return to that time_

_I followed without a word  
My brother the fault is mine_

Alfred grew ten shades paler seeing the red on Arthur's hand. The American whipped around behind him and saw one of his officer's shaking, looking horrified.

"Davis!? WHAT THE HELL?!"

"My-my-my f-finger slipped sir! It was an accident!" the soldier tried to explain.

"I don't care! Go and get the medic!"

"But Sir-"

"NOW!"

And with that, the whole army in fact, hurriedly scurried off to go get help. America watched them go but turned back around and saw the Englishman fading fast. He was half lying on the ground and his eyes half shut.

"Britain!"

America ran over, dropping down to his knees and propping the older country's upper body in his arms. "Oh geez! Blood's everywhere!"

"You...you always were the reassuring type, ol' chap." Arthur joked weakly.

Tears sprung to America's eyes. All the anger he was felt for the other man disappearing instantly. Now all he felt was fear, sorrow and regret. "Iggy I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean for any of this to happen! I never wanted you to get hurt! I never wanted to fight with you either! I just wanted...Oh man! Just please don't die!"

"I know America," Britain wheezed only to be cut off by a coughing fit. Blood spluttered from his mouth, covering his hand and getting onto America who paid little heed to it.

"I didn't mean what I said." the younger man said once the coughing fit ended. "I AM still your little brother. Your the best big brother anyone could ever have. Oh lord what have I done?!"

"A-America..." Britain said. His vision beginning to go black.

"Y-yeah?" America asked, tears flowing down his cheeks. Britain looked up at his little brother and smiled.

"I'm proud of you. You've shown that you can take care of yourself. You'll make a great country." And with that, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body went limp.

"Britain?" America asked quietly.

No response.

"BRITAIN?!"

Thunder clapped and lightening flashed, drowning out America's anguished cry. He held the corpse of his older brother, sobbing.

_End of flashback_

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America held onto the gravestone tightly as if it were a lifeline. Like if he held on tight enough for long enough, it would bring Arthur back.

"I'm sorry brother! I am so so sorry!" he sobbed. Tears streamed down his cheeks and landed on the grass. His body shook and trembled. Oh what he wouldn't give to just see his older brother one last time.

"A-America?"

Said man froze upon hearing the shy timid voice. He quickly removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, replacing the glasses back on his face. He turned and saw pretty much a mirror image of himself, holding a polar bear.

"Canada? What are you doing here?" America asked, feeling embarrassed for being caught crying. He was America he was supposed to be the hero. Hero's do not show weakness.

"I-I followed you here." the Canadian admitted. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have but-but you looked so sad. I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine." Alfred sighed. He turned back to the grave and pulled his legs up to himself, resting his chin on his knees. Canada joined him and sat down next to his twin. He sat his polar bear, Mr. Kumajiro, down on the grass and the little bear wandered off. The two countries sat in silence for the longest time.

"You know," Matthew finally started after awhile. "I...I know I didn't know Mr. Britain like you did, but...well if it's any consolation, I think he taught you well."

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked peeling his gaze away from the stone and to his little brother.

"How to be a good big brother." the Canadian clarified. "I-I mean, yeah we have our differences, all brothers do, but your still a good big brother."

"No I'm not." America sighed shaking his head. "I'm a jerk alright? I know that."

"Yeah, you are."

"You not supposed to agree with me!"

"Let me finish!" Canada said quickly. "Yeah, you can be a jerk sometimes but you have your moments. Like remember that time when we were little and you pushed France into the sandbox because he was picking on me?"

Alfred couldn't help but smirk at the memory. "Yeah. That was funny."

"And you have started paying more attention to me at the World Meetings." Matthew added.

"Trying to at least." America admitted.

"Look," Canada said seriously. "We all make mistakes, but we can't let those mistakes define us. Mr. Britain's death wasn't your fault."

"But it was my fault the resolution began in the first place."

"But you didn't mean for it to get to that point. Britain wouldn't want you beating yourself up all the time about it. He would want you to go on with your life. Be the strong independent country that he knew you are."

The American was silent as he let the words sink in. He looked at the gravestone and a small smile pulled at his lips. He looked back at Matthew.

"You know what Canadia, your not to bad of a little bro yourself." he said wrapping his arm around the younger nation's neck and then proceeded to give him a noogie.

"H-hey! Cut that out!" Canada laughed. His brother let him go and he fixed his already messy hair.

"So you wanna get a burger or something?" Alfred asked standing to his feet. He held out a hand and pulled the younger man to his feet.

"I'd like that." Matthew smiled. He turned around stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. "Come along now Mr. Kumajiro."

"Who're you?" the polar bear asked trotting over.

"I'm Canada." Canada said picking up the bear. He cradled the bear in one arm and placed his other on his brother's shoulder. America did the same to him and with that the twins started down the hill. America looked back, giving a last glance at Arthur's grave.

"_Thank you Britain...for everything." _he thought. He turned back forward, looking away from the grave and to the future. Yes Britain was still gone and he still missed him greatly, but Alfred knew that as long as he had his brother, he'd be alright. He may be independent but that didn't mean that he didn't need to have have anyone.

Had he looked back at the grave, Alfred would have a see through version of Arthur appear. He was wearing white robes and a pair of wings sprouted from his back. A gold halo floating above his head.

Britain smiled to himself as he watched them go. He was so proud of his little brother.

_So where do we go from here?  
And how to forget and forgive?_

_What's gone is forever lost  
And now all we can do is live_

**Song is "Brother" by Vic Mignogna. I actually saw a youtube video with this song featuring the Revolutionary war. As I watched the video I realized how well this song fits America and well, this idea happened. I geuss it would have worked to with Arthur living but not as much.**

**And PLEASE don't hate me for killing off Iggy! I'm an Iggy fangirl myself and it physically hurt me to do that but...well, the story demanded it. ^^;**

**Anyway, hope you all enjoyed. And to Rivvy and CC, if you guys are reading this I ADDED MATTIE IN THERE FOR YOU GUYS!**

**Please review, favorite and follow. Bye!**


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